


Learning to Bend

by Kaiosea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Choreographers, Alternate Universe - Dance, Anal Sex, Ball Hitting, Developing Relationship, Friendly Rivalry, HQ Rarepair Week, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, choreography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 17:16:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3617853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiosea/pseuds/Kaiosea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sugawara came in to teach the morning dance class on Monday only to see Kageyama, yes, that Kageyama, the infamous one from competition history and the name mentioned on the cover of the national dance magazine, standing center front.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning to Bend

**Author's Note:**

> For hqrarepairweek 2015, day 1: beginnings.  
> I might change the title later, fyi.

Sugawara came in to teach the morning dance class on Monday only to see Kageyama, yes, that Kageyama, the infamous one from competition history, standing in Suga’s usual spot at center front.

He’d heard the whispers about a new hire floating around the administration. Suga had kept his position as the choreographer in residence and artistic director for years, and he intended to stay there. It didn’t surprise him that the Board of Directors had seen fit to do a trial run on someone new; it wasn’t the first time they’d auditioned another company choreographer, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Jobs were hard to come by, and each company had to do what they could to stand out.

So Suga had known exactly what it meant when they told him they were bringing in a guest choreographer, but he hadn't realized who it would be.

“My name is Kageyama. I’ll be doing the yearly piece for the spring. Thank you for having me.”

Suga tried to stare at him like his name hadn’t been plastered all over the national dance magazine’s cover more than once in the last five years. He was smaller and thinner in person than the YouTube videos Suga had watched a few years ago, back in Kageyama’s prime days as a dancer, before Kageyama had shocked everyone by giving up dancing to become a choreographer.

He seemed twitchy, but then again, so was Suga. They didn’t look directly at each other.

The dancers were shifty, too, and Tsukishima crossed his arms at the front of the dance studio, glaring at Kageyama in the mirror.

Suga taught the company warm-up as usual, much more aware of the extra pair of observant eyes in the room.

 

*

 

In the afternoon, Kageyama held his first rehearsal. Suga attended, having chewed his nails off during the lunch break.

The first thing Kageyama did was put Tsukishima, the company’s principal dancer, in the back, which definitely pissed him off. Otherwise, Kageyama didn’t seem to do much of anything. He taught them a few simple steps and had them do them over and over to the same piano music, reversing the order or the entire combination, going back-to-front or left-to-right swapped. He didn’t talk much, but he was succinct with how he wanted it done and very direct with his corrections.

Kageyama was a lot more take-charge than Suga, but if this was how he preferred to work, then maybe it wouldn’t be such a fight for Suga to keep his job.

When Suga got home, he made a simple pasta dinner with salad and set up his laptop at the dinner table.

He discovered that Kageyama was roughly eight years younger than him, and he’d only worked with a couple of companies previously.

He watched his way through Kageyama’s last piece of work. It was with an all-female company at a smaller city in the north, one that had probably loose reins on creative control.

It was a fairy tale he’d never seen before. A mermaid came up from the sea to go sight-seeing, only to be caged and later set-free by a friend she’d made in her early days on land.

There was a grand pas de chat where the classic movement called for a demi, there was an incessant twist to the posture that intensified the pain of the storyline, and the corps moved into spaces as if they walked through trees, slinging their bodies in front of and behind each other like wind in blades of underwater grass.

Suga stopped chewing his food. Apparently Kageyama had only gotten more brilliant since his days as a young principal dancer. Not all dancers were good choreographers, but Kageyama was a single-handed example that proved that they could be.

Suga closed his laptop, having eventually brought it into bed with him, and fell asleep.

 

*

 

Five weeks later, rehearsals were in full swing. Suga had his own piece he worked in the mornings after he taught their usual class and Kageyama had them for rehearsal in the afternoons. They weren’t required to stay for the rehearsals, but Suga always stayed for at least half of Kageyama’s—when he was up for review, he wanted to have all the points he could to his advantage.

He wasn’t exactly sure why Kageyama attended all his rehearsals, too. The other man’s incessant gaze was unnerving, and as much as Suga tried to make brief, but polite conversation with him, it never seemed to take seed in Kageyama’s stare. Sometimes, it seemed like Kageyama wanted to say something, working himself up and pacing the side of the room, but Suga could never get more out of him than some lame one-liners.

Suga taught the morning class as usual. Kageyama didn’t attend this, since it was just a normal company class, a routine meant to keep the dancers in their bodies and warm them up so they wouldn’t get injured before their two daily rehearsals. It didn’t require much creativity.

But as the weeks went on, he began to notice a certain trend. The dancers were more surly and less quick, as if their minds were elsewhere.

At the sidelines, he could see a couple of the newer dancers chatting and apparently practicing some other steps while another group was doing the combination in the center. Suga didn’t recognize the flairs they were putting on the movements, but he could guess who had taught it to them.

It was extremely unprofessional. Tsukishima was staring them down and probably going to snark at them soon. Suga knew a few artistic directors in the country who would kick them out for that.

“Don’t work his steps in my class,” said Suga, as nicely as he could.

One of the newer members, Hinata, spoke up. Small but flexible, he had found his niche here, and he was on the track to become a soloist if he stayed around. “Sorry. The combination is just difficult, the one Kageyama has us doing.” Hinata was daring like a new dancer too, and Suga couldn't see any of the others leaning towards talking back like that when they were already being reprimanded.

“Well, practice it on your own,” said Suga. That was about as forceful as he got, and he could see the others nudging Hinata to back off.

Suga decided to stay behind until the end of Kageyama’s rehearsal that day, to check out what was going on with his would-be competition.

 

*

 

It was just past 5pm, Kageyama’s rehearsal had been going for hours, and Suga could understand perfectly why the dancers were annoyed.

Kageyama wasn’t the clearest with directions, which usually led to a lot of experimentation with different versions of sequences until he got what he wanted. As choreographers went, Kageyama was far from the worst Suga had seen in that respect—he knew one guy who simply told his dancers to “Do something!” until they magically inspired him to have an idea—but Kageyama might have been the most demanding.

Suga had realized Kageyama was picky, but he hadn’t understood how he not only strove for, but _required_ total perfection before he’d even think about moving on.

“No, we’ll stay here until it is right,” said Kageyama, tapping his foot.

“You’re not really going to keep us here again?” That was Hinata. Suga expected one of the other dancers had prompted him to say it.

Kageyama looked unconcerned. “Overtime is in your contract, isn’t it?”

It was, but no one liked it.

The minute Kageyama called a five-minute break, Tsukishima fished his phone out of his bag and stalked outside the room. Suga took the opportunity to use the restroom.

“I’m sorry. I have to be late,” Tsukishima was saying into the phone when Suga walked out.

Suga guessed it was Yamaguchi, his long-standing boyfriend, on the other end. Tsukishima was pretty agitated and spoke faster than usual, apparently postponing a standing date.

“Tadashi—”

Kageyama poked his head out the door. His hair was tucked behind his ears. “Tsukishima. One minute. Let’s go.” His head disappeared.

“Tadashi, sorry.” Tsukishima hung up and glared as he set the lockscreen.

Seeing Suga, Tsukishima said, “He does this all the time.”

Unwillingly, Suga answered. Tsukishima was a good friend of his, and they’d successfully straddled the boundary of being more friendly than mere co-workers for years. “Keeps you late?”

“It’s not that he keeps us late,” said Tsukishima. “You do that too… Even if it’s not always. It’s that he doesn’t apologize. He doesn’t even care.”

Suga bit his tongue.

Inside the studio, Suga couldn’t even tell what Kageyama was going for. The formations were in disarray, and Kageyama changed their places after every run, which was confusing even for established dancers. Hinata stuck his tongue out behind his back, being a little juvenile, but he wasn’t the only one smarting under Kageyama’s leadership.

They said choreography was a profession of personalities, and Kageyama certainly had one.

Suga felt frustrated just watching and empathizing, but he stuck around until everyone had left except for Kageyama, who was fishing his music out of the player.

“Hi, Kageyama.”

Kageyama flinched, his shoulders going tight. “Yes, Sugawara?”

Suga explained what had happened in morning class. “Can you tell them to practice more on their own time, not mine.”

Kageyama was stilted. “I tell them to make sure they have it by my rehearsal. They should be more responsible.”

He had a point there, kind of. Suga changed tactics. “Well… do you really keep them that late all the time?”

“Yeah. Who complained? It was Tsukishima I bet. He always wants to call his boyfriend.”

“Just say you’re sorry, at least? I keep ‘em late, but a good apology goes a long ways.”

“But I’m not.” Kageyama cleared his throat. “I guess that doesn’t sound good.”

“Well.” Suga felt it would be too harsh to agree outright.

“What I mean is—I mean that the dance won’t be as good. I know it can be good, too. I can see it, and it’s so close—”

Suga could feel what he meant, even if he couldn’t visualize it. There were moments when everything was going wrong, the dancers were in the places you’d told them but the rhythm was impure, or the steps came out hackneyed no matter how much you thought about it in advance as something utterly new.

“And choreography isn’t a team sport,” said Kageyama.

Suga said, “Sure, I know that’s what you think.”

Kageyama looked frustrated. “I didn’t want it to go like this.” He cracked his neck backwards, looking at the ceiling, then at Suga’s chest. It was a gesture fitting of a dancer.

Suga didn’t know what he meant by that, and so he kept talking. “I’m not here to tell you can’t make it in the industry with a bad personality. We know that’s not true. I’m here to tell you that you won’t like it as much that way.”

“I don’t need the dancers to like me,” said Kageyama, flicking his eyes at the floor.

“That’s true too.” Suga wanted to say more, to address him as equals, but Kageyama was more well-known and probably going to take his job. “But you’ll like it more.”

Kageyama was biting on the side of his cheek, stressed. “I like it enough how it is.” His jaw clenched up, and his back molars bit down and he let out a groan. “Bit my tongue.”

Sugawara laughed at him despite himself. The drive, the will to succeed, the impossible creativity, and he was watching this choreographer in his mid-twenties stick his fingers in his mouth to see if he’d drawn blood.

Kageyama stopped chewing his mouth bloody, and Suga saw an indent in his cheek.

He hadn’t noticed Kageyama had a dimple before.

“What’s funny?” asked Sugawara, pretending to be stern, and the dimple creased even more. He could see Kageyama’s lips trembling, threatening to break.

“Nothing,” said Kageyama. “Nope.”

Maybe for Kageyama, that was what a smile actually looked like.

 

*

 

It hadn’t exactly been easy for Suga to get this job in the first place. Like most jobs, he’d been in the right place at the right time and known the right people—or rather, the right person.

He’d known Kiyoko Shimizu when she was a few years above him at dance school. They’d trained with the same studio, but Shimizu hadn’t been sure if she wanted to continue, having been more business minded than most. You had to have a little of the ethereal in you, exist a bit too disconnected from earth, in order to maintain the illusion that your dance career would never end. Shimizu’d had practicality up to her ears. Suga had envied it; he’d believed she’d be successful as much as he doubted himself. And when Suga started trying to market himself as a choreographer, Shimizu went to business school, and later got a degree to practice law, specializing in arts administration.

She ended up becoming an investor, a donor and a producer, after settling a heavy entertainment lawsuit in her client’s favor that probably had her rolling in cash. From there she returned completely to the dance world, where she'd had set her sights on this particular company from the beginning, although they hadn’t ever had a female producer in the past. Suga had been there for the fight, the months-long back-and-forth of whether they were going to hire her already or keep stringing her along, and he’d put his opinion behind her. Maybe it hadn’t counted, but as a one-time guest choreographer back then, he’d said his part anyways.

Shimizu was now the head of the Board of Directors.

In the end, when the company was looking to go in a different direction about five years ago, Shimizu hadn’t assured him the job—she was much too professional to ever play favorites, but she had made sure his name was on the list. From there Suga had forced the door open for himself. He wasn’t the most innovative, and he wasn’t incredibly young, but he was good with people and the dancers had taken to him right away. His choreography was solid and had established a new name for them in the past half-decade, with Tsukishima hired as the new lead.

He liked his job, and he wanted to stay in it. That was why he threw himself into the preparations, trying to pay as little mind to his newest challenger as possible.

It proved difficult to ignore Kageyama, though.

 

*

 

Kageyama showed up the next day, early in the morning, dark circles under his eyes, a duffel bag over his shoulder. Instead of stalking off to the corner of the room, he walked straight to the center.

“Your rehearsal’s later,” said Suga, being practical. He was about to start the morning class, and there really wasn’t much to watch.

Kageyama drew his eyebrows together and put a hand on his hip. Suga tried to not look at his ass in the mirror. It seemed like Kageyama had kept up with his exercise regimen.

“I know. I’m here to take your class.”

Suga noticed then that Kageyama was wearing a white T-shirt much more fitted than his usual regimen of black, and his tights and dance belt were secured.

Suga nodded. “Ah, right.” In front of the class, he didn’t want to seem like he hadn’t known about this in advance, though he didn’t suspect Kageyama of trying to undermine him—it wasn’t his style. There was something pure in his devotion, even if it did cause everyone around him to become wary and nervous.

Kageyama stood at attention, and Sugawara tried not to focus on him while he led the roll-down and roll-up, side stretches and foot warm-ups.

After they were sufficiently warm, Sugawara taught them an easy sequence, just a memory game. Kageyama stood out, but he was just a very striking dancer with typical toned physique, or maybe it was his easy handsomeness that attracted Suga’s eyes.

The dancers did their best to act cool, but Suga could see their occasional glances over to Kageyama when they should have been focusing on their own form.

Maybe he was curious about Kageyama, or maybe he just felt like giving the dancers a kick in the butt, but he made the next combination extra tricky and had them go in groups in the center.

Kageyama lined up in the last group and stood in the back, taking an unassuming posture.

Then he moved, and his entire image shifted on its axis. Kageyama drew his arms like a conductor, twisting himself up into the exact shape Suga had demanded of them, neither ahead nor behind the beat but exactly on time. His difficult footwork was crisp and polite, and his face was less stilted, more open. The intricacy was made to look easy, though Suga could appreciate the torque, the lift, the turnout, all present in his body. Kageyama’s shoulders stretched his shirt.

He looked like really good art, and Suga didn’t even like art that much.

The next time time his group came around, Suga hoped that Kageyama would do it in the same way again, just so he could watch the beautiful artistry again.

But it was different this time. Instead, Kageyama looked like sex. His face was alive, and his lips parted like a request for a heated kiss. His arms curved into a lover’s embrace, but his hips moved like he was fucking, his thighs quivering with exertion.

Suga was unwillingly turned on, spellbound and stimulated.

Kageyama really had that thing people talked about. People of the stage called it “glamour,” or sometimes they said “stage presence.” In sports it was “natural instinct.” For actors they said “charisma.” Magicians said “chops.”

It was also called star quality, and they said you either had “It” or you didn’t, which Sugawara didn’t think was exactly correct. Everyone at this level had it to some extent, but Kageyama had honed his immeasurable talent to bounds that Sugawara hadn’t observed in years, and he wasn’t even an active dancer anymore.

They didn’t say “genius,” at least not for dancers, but looking at Kageyama, Suga thought they should.

The class had stopped dancing behind him, laying their arms to their sides and hips turned out in typical dancer repose. They all stood still and watched him.

Suga didn’t think Kageyama noticed them at all.

Kageyama spun out of the last turn, landing lightly on his feet with a regal posture. He slowly came to notice everyone staring at him.

“What?” he said, panting. “Am I that out of practice?”

The worst part was that Suga could tell he was serious.

Suga clapped his hands and called for a repeat.

He told Kageyama to stand in the back. From further away, it almost looked like Kageyama was fighting not to smile.

 

*

 

Later that month, on a Friday afternoon only weeks before the run of performances began, Suga waited until everyone cleared out of the studio after Kageyama’s rehearsal, wanting to have the space to himself.

Rehearsals had been going better actually, both Suga’s and Kageyama’s, now that the dancers had a better sense of Kageyama’s integrity as a dancer and choreographer. It even seemed to help that Kageyama was still coming to Suga’s morning classes, showing them all up—it put him more on the same level as them and demonstrated that he was willing to work himself just as hard as he worked his dancers.

There was always a trial period where dancers broke in their choreographer and vice versa, and if the dancers still didn’t have the sunny relationship with Kageyama that they did with Sugawara, it had jumped up to the level of mutual respect. Suga wondered if Kageyama had taken any of his advice to heart or if this was always how he worked.

Sugawara listened to make sure no one was around before he put his earbuds in and music on. He wasn’t wearing the proper clothing or shoes, but today, it felt necessary that he dance. Kageyama’s presence in his class was distracting, but inspiring, and he made Suga want to put on his shoes and get back into his body, to twist and turn like the rest of them.

As Suga moved across the Marley floor, he could feel the years of training in his bones, and he could equally feel his body trying to disobey. He quit after a good half hour of solid work, knowing when he had to stop to avoid overexertion.

Suga took his earbuds out, breathing heavily, and he felt his heart stop when he saw someone in the doorway.

“I’m sorry,” said Kageyama automatically, his palm coming up in front of his chest. “I was in the bathroom.”

Suga’s shoulders went up and he turned off his music.

“I left my bag,” said Kageyama, as if he was trying to apologize.

Now that Suga looked around, he did see Kageyama’s familiar duffel sitting at the other corner of the studio.

“You looked—you looked nice,” said Kageyama, then he asked abruptly, “By the way, is Tsukishima okay?”

“He’s fine, why?” Suga couldn’t help but feel a little mad that Kageyama had caught him dancing, because he knew he was way out of practice in comparison to Kageyama’s godlike talent. He really didn’t mind being obviously worse, but he would have preferred Kageyama to see him putting his full effort into the steps, not practicing for fun.

“Seems like he’s distracted,” said Kageyama. “He argues more with his boyfriend on the breaks.”

“I think I’ve heard him talking too. Sounds like normal commitment issues.”

Kageyama shrugged, but the movement looked too formal on his spread shoulders. “As long as he dances okay. I guess I feel bad for his boyfriend, though.”

“Why would you get that idea?” said Suga. “If you heard the dancers talking, it’s Tsukishima that wants to commit. Yamaguchi’s the one wavering back and forth.”

Kageyama was obviously surprised, but then again, he didn’t know either of them like Suga did. “They’ve been exclusive for that long?”

“Not exclusive. They used to open it up sometimes,” said Suga without thinking.

Kageyama stared at him for a long moment.

Suga forced himself to laugh like he’d been joking and Kageyama came out of his daze and walked over for his bag.

Kageyama said very quietly, “You and Tsukishima? And his boyfriend, then?”

“Yes,” said Suga, because he didn’t intend to get himself into the habit of lying, and Kageyama wasn’t the type to tell.

“How was it?” said Kageyama, looking like he very much wanted to know the answer.

“Good,” said Suga, equally quiet and awkward, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. He didn’t need to answer, but he wanted to. “It was good.”

Furrowing his brow like he’d decided something important, Kageyama set down his bag again. “Sugawara. I have a question.”

It wasn’t like Kageyama to ask for help, but that was exactly what he was doing. He wanted Suga’s opinion on the most recent version of his dance. Suga naturally agreed to watch and sat down, his back at the mirror, excited despite himself that Kageyama had finally asked him for something.

So Kageyama stripped off his windbreaker and danced in his bare feet. He threw his arms up like he was caught in a whirlwind, his shoulderblades taking shape through his shirt, and he jumped and landed purposefully hard, like he wanted to make an impact, an earthquake if he could. He slid to the floor in front of Suga like he wanted to be looked at.

It was a little pure and a little dirty, with Kageyama dressed in street clothes, slim black jeans and a grey henley with the top button undone.

Suga felt as if he were being seduced, and the next time Kageyama went to the floor in front of him he didn’t come back up, because Suga leaned forward and Kageyama went sideways, and their lips pressed together like they’d burned for it for weeks. Kageyama started the kiss off chaste, and Suga made it less so, being liberal with his tongue and lips, holding Kageyama heavy in his lap, the cold mirror quickly heating up from the contact at the back of his neck.

Suga felt the full weight of the realization of who he was kissing. This was Kageyama, who danced like a dream and dreamed of dancers, and he could feel him hard against his thigh through his black jeans.

“I think I live closer,” said Sugawara, electrified and transfixed.

 

*

 

Their clothes were long gone, thrown to the floor of Suga’s bedroom as they made out and groped each other, grinding until Suga wanted to beg for it.

Suga couldn’t wait any longer and broke the kiss, ending it with a hint of teeth.

“You’re very aggressive,” said Kageyama, breathing hard. His hair was messed up but very soft to the touch, his neck was flushed, and his thighs were hairier than expected, tickling Suga’s legs.

“And?”

“Nothing.”

Suga inched closer to the side and reached for the lube in his bedside drawer, shoulder straining. He handed it over, spread his legs and waited.

“Oh.” Kageyama was clearly surprised, looking at the bottle in his hand.

“Do you not want to do it this way or…”

“No. This way is great. Really. Great.”

Suga could have laughed at how hard Kageyama was concentrating while he fingered him, but instead he chose to watch how Kageyama’s stomach bunched together while he leaned over him, and how his bangs fell into his face. Kageyama’s fingers curved, feeling long and reaching for that spot inside him. Kageyama licked his lips like he was going to eat him, and Suga kind of wished he would.

They were in a little too much of a hurry for that though, and soon enough Kageyama had gotten the condom and lubed up and was slowly pressing inside.

Once seated, they worked together in a modest pace. Kageyama planted himself on his forearms, straddling Suga’s shoulders, and Kageyama kissed him, once again starting chaste like before but opening up when Suga coaxed him with his tongue.

It was nice like this. They stayed in this position for a while, with Suga inching closer to orgasm but mostly enjoying the feeling of being pleasured. Kageyama had found the best angle incredibly fast, but Suga felt a little disconnected. He wanted to pull the spark to the surface, the way Kageyama danced in his morning class, always doing the steps Suga told him.

Suga pushed him over, and Kageyama slipped out but went with the motion, going onto his back.

“I’m gonna ride you,” said Suga, feeling brazen.

Kageyama looked very happy about that decision, pressing his lips together until the dimple appeared and his eyes opened up wide. Suga lined himself up with one hand and slowly sank down.

Suga felt really sexy like this, riding Kageyama slow and dirty, squeezing his hips front to back in a slow wave. Kageyama reached out with both arms but ended up only resting one on Suga’s hips, and he didn’t grab on or try to change the pace. It was less of a guide than a simple touch.

Kageyama brushed his bangs out of his eyes, and now Suga really felt like he was being looked at. He could see Kageyama’s eyes go from his face down his neck to his chest, to his stomach and the hair trailing down from his navel, finally resting on the movements of Suga’s hips, and the long inches of his cock going in and out. Suga kept up the pace, insistent with his hips, feeling a hot tension at the base of his stomach, and began to jerk himself off.

“I’m gonna,” said Kageyama, and he let out a pressured groan. “I’m gonna—”

As he came, Kageyama opened his eyes and shouted, swearing as he gripped Suga more strongly. It was the idea that Suga could make him do that, make Kageyama moan loud and clear, that brought him over the edge as well, with only a few tight strokes of his hand. Suga tried to aim himself into his hand as much as he could, but it was difficult when he was still riding Kageyama, clenching around his cock. He gave up and let it splatter out over Kageyama’s abs and chest. The sight was pretty hot, actually. Suga hadn’t expected to cum that much, but Kageyama looked good like that, with cooling stripes of white plastered over his body.

Kageyama was tilting his chin down at himself and not saying anything.

Suga said, “Uh—sorry I—”

“No. I don’t mind.” Kageyama leaned up for a kiss, and Suga curved his torso down for it while trying not to get them both even more messy.

“I’ll get you a washcloth.” Suga nearly tripped as he got off the bed, legs shaky as he went to and from the bathroom.

Before he handed the wet cloth over, Suga took a mental picture of Kageyama for future reference.

“Well,” said Suga. “It’s late.”

“Yep.” Kageyama was looking at him very intently. Actually, it wasn’t that different from his normal stare, the unusual part was having its full force directed right at Suga.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something…”

Kageyama echoed softly, “Or something.”

“Well, what’s your idea?”

“I don’t have an idea.”

Suga rolled over to get his laptop from the floor. “Then let’s watch a movie.”

 

*

 

On Monday, Kageyama didn’t come in until Suga’s rehearsal, which was being held in the theatre today, but he was right on time for that. Dress rehearsals were underway, and though Suga was still holding mandatory morning class, the dancers had been distracted, itching for the real stage, for costumes and lighting and full makeup.

Sugawara caught his eye and beckoned him over. Kageyama walked over with his hands in his pockets, trying too hard to be casual.

“What, not coming to my class anymore?” said Sugawara, joking. “I’ll have points off your grade for that.”

“I already got my grade,” said Kageyama with a dirty smile. It didn’t look quite right on him under the studio lights, and Suga laughed, even though he knew Kageyama was trying to be sexy. “But seriously,” he continued. “I kinda… got what I wanted out of that.”

“Uh-huh,” said Suga. He tried to leer. “What was that?”

“You.” It was too plain, the way he said things sometimes.

Suga didn’t say anything. It was plain and at the same time he didn’t know what Kageyama meant, what he wanted.

“A lot of people like my dancing,” explained Kageyama. “I thought I’d try using it for once.” Then, even more surprising, he said, “But I was gonna stop either way. I think I was starting to intimidate the company dancers.”

Suga was speechless. “ _Starting_ to—”

“Especially that Tsukishima,” said Kageyama, scowling. “Maybe I should start coming back.”

“I don’t think that’s quite necessary.”

It was a little awkward between them, but it had always been that way, due to the nature of—well, the nature of Kageyama wanting Suga’s job.

Suga didn’t know exactly what to think about it all. It had and it hadn’t felt like a one-off, but by now he’d learned to just let things play out. If it had been a night of really nice sex, that was great and everything. If Kageyama wanted to do it again he was going to have to say so, because Suga felt like he’d made it clear already.

Under normal circumstances they’d keep talking a little longer, but they were in crunch time to get their choreography finished, packaged and out the door. Kageyama started his rehearsal early, and Suga left. He wanted the finished product to be a surprise, and he had no doubt that Kageyama would deliver.

 

*

 

The curtains came up on the opening performance to a full house.

Suga had fought very hard to have Kageyama’s piece go after his, since he didn’t want to follow that act. And so it was Suga’s piece that opened the show, and Kageyama’s to close.

Suga had done his about a pair of lovers. Tsukishima and Hinata did the principal duet, and from the way they embraced and slipped in synchronization onstage you’d never have known they didn’t get along.

Sometimes Suga looked at his pieces through the screen of his fingers, wishing he’d done something differently or cast the understudy instead of the main. This time though, he was perfectly satisfied with what he’d done. From the front row, he had a perfect view of the dancers’ feet as they caressed and struck the floor. He could see everyone giving their full capacity from the start.

All too soon, it was over. Suga didn’t feel like he had cried, but apparently he had. In the seat next to him, Kageyama offered a nod and a half-smile, the dimple coming out on that side of his face, and he patted Suga’s hand. Suga appreciated the effort.

The pieces in the middle were unremarkable, in Suga’s opinion, though they did give the younger dancers a chance to shine. No one fell or even stumbled, and their faces were alight with joy.

Still, Suga felt on edge the whole time, anticipating his rival’s piece. He’d continued to skip Kageyama’s dress rehearsals in the last days before the opening, wanting to be surprised by the final product.

At last, the lights dimmed to black for the final piece, and then they came up shining blue on a stage full of dancers.

From the first note and movement, Suga was mesmerized. There was more than a touch of birdlike movement, the imitation of wings and weightlessness in the air. He could swear he saw Hinata fly as he did a switch-leap across the stage, all confidence and raw grace. Suga felt the emotion of the story more than he understood the individual steps that made it up.

After all that work, Kageyama had truly brought out the strengths of the non-soloist dancers. It seemed he’d understood after all. The troupe had a chance to shine, each taking a moment in the spotlight. At times Tsukishima blended into the heavy crowd so well it was hard to pick him out despite his height, but Kageyama also brought out his uniqueness as a dancer, the way he could attack the stage, using his rare height to his advantage.

There was also something crude about the whole thing, something that rung with a little violence. It struck a hedonistic chord, something a little too tasteless for the audience to mention in their après-show discussions, and yet the dancers barely touched each other. Their formations were like the twistings of a kaleidoscope; the shapes formed by the spaces in-between their separate bodies became as important as the corporeality of the movements themselves.

Suga realized it didn’t matter what order they went in. Kageyama’s piece would be the one on everyone’s minds, including his own, at the end of the night.

He found it hard to mind. He could feel Kageyama’s energy in the seat next to him. He almost buzzed with it, jiggling his heels in time with the steps, lips moving silently as he fixated on the stage, taking in every detail and inspecting if it was to his liking.

Tsukishima held hands and bowed with Kageyama at the final curtain call, before Suga stepped forward himself to take his solo bow as the choreographer in residence, listening to wild applause.

Afterwards, Suga went backstage to chat with the dancers. They were exhilarated and flushed, riding the high of performers who felt they’d turned in a perfect night, the first among many to come.

Suga said hi when Yamaguchi showed up in the dressing room, too. Yamaguchi must have bribed someone, because he’d snuck a full basket of his cookies backstage, probably fresh from the bakery he ran. Suga snagged one, a delicious oatmeal-raisin, and he watched Tsukishima and Yamaguchi for a small minute and basked in the warmth of the others’ happiness.

But the room cleared out fast, most of the dancers wanting to either go out and sleep, to see their family or significant others, or to party like wild animals, the latter of which Suga turned a blind eye to. He’d done the same thing when he was their age.

Suga splashed water on his face in the bathroom, and when he was done he ran into Kageyama in the halls outside the dressing rooms.

“Oh, hello,” said Suga.

Kageyama was obviously checking him out, from his toes to the tip of his head.

“Do you want to come over?” said Kageyama, finally. He was doing the intense staring thing again, and he looked very dapper in his suit. “For a drink, or something.”

“Or something,” said Suga, and he grinned.

 

*

 

Suga choked on Kageyama’s cock. He was on his knees in Kageyama’s bedroom, which was much more messy than he’d expected. Not that he was paying it much attention at the moment.

It was mostly the length that was the problem. He kept trying to force it all down his throat, but it was too much for him, though Kageyama seemed to like it.

Suga moved his head lower and ran his lips and tongue over his balls, opening his lips to suck one of them inside.

Kageyama cleared his throat.

Suga slipped him out of his mouth and looked up expectantly. “Yes?”

Kageyama looked like he was trying to stop himself from talking. “You can go a little harder.”

Suga got the other of his balls into his mouth and sucked with more pressure, and Kageyama’s breath hitched. Suga blinked up at him, mouth full. Kageyama’s face was tense, cords of his neck strained. The view was somewhat obscured by Kageyama’s dick, hard and pointing out nearly horizontal to his body. Suga thought about jerking him off but decided to see how close he could get him without even touching his cock.

With his hand, Suga stroked the ball that wasn’t in his mouth, rolling his fingers and applying a little force.

Kageyama stifled a noise in his throat. Suga felt competitive, wanting to make him stop holding back. He remembered Kageyama’s reaction when he’d just taken control of the pace last time.

Suga took his mouth away and tapped out a beat on Kageyama’s pointy hipbone.

“Hey,” said Suga. “Alright if I fuck you this time?” He had been aching for it ever since the first time, and he’d passed a few nights by himself with only his imagination as substitute.

Kageyama breathed out, seeming relieved. “Yeah,” he said, lifting his head off the pillow.

“Where’s your lube?”

“Uhh…” Kageyama carefully picked himself off the bed in a daze, kicking a couple piles of clothes until he found what they needed.

Suga took his time fingering him, trying to draw out more noise, but Kageyama kept pretty quiet through the process, though his mouth fell open enticingly and he fisted his hands in the sheets, flexing his wrists. He was ready faster than Suga had thought he’d be. When Suga thrust inside he groaned at the tight pressure.

Suga fucked him on his back for a little while, Kageyama’s legs pulled up at an impressive angle thanks to his prenatural flexibility. Like the last time, it was really good, and Kageyama was tight and hot around him, but Suga wanted to coax more out of him.

So he maneuvered Kageyama onto his hands and knees, thinking he was maybe getting somewhere since Kageyama was all too willing to comply, arching his back into a pretty curve to give Suga easy access. Suga ran his mouth over the curved spine up to his neck, pressing short kisses in-between slow thrusts.

Suga tried a few angles, until he found one that made Kageyama whine low and deep in his throat.

“You like that?” said Suga, going faster, thrilled to think he might be able to make him come undone. “Come on, tell me.”

Kageyama blinked, and turned his head back, his jaw hanging loose. “Yes.”

Suga bit his lip and wedged his hands over the soft bones of Kageyama’s hips, putting real power into his thrusts.

Kageyama bit his lip and puffed his cheeks out.

Suga almost frowned. He remembered what Kageyama had sounded like during his orgasm, and he wanted to hear it again. He slammed back in harder, absorbed in the way Kageyama’s body made easy room for him.

Kageyama pushed back hard to meet him, perfect in his rhythm and squeezing down at the crest of every thrust.

Suga wanted to keep going, but the way Kageyama just opened up so pliant and warm and tight and the quiet groans he let out had Suga close to the edge, and it was only a dozen more thrusts become he came, his eyes squeezed shut as he held onto Kageyama’s waist.

Suga pulled out, disposed of the condom in the nearby wastebasket and quickly returned.

Lying back on the bed, Kageyama was jerking himself off with a steady hand, his lips bitten red and chest heaving up and down. He was looking at Suga, eyes trailing up and down his body, and he ran his tongue between his lips, concentrating hard.

But he wasn’t making a sound, and Suga couldn’t have that.

“Need a hand?” said Suga, reaching out to replace Kageyama’s hand with his own, only to be met with resistance.

“Hit me in the balls,” said Kageyama, voice strained.

“Unh?” said Sugawara, sure he had misunderstood something.

Kageyama’s fist went a little slower, and his eyes went more narrow. “Uh. I mean. You don’t have to, but. Sorry.”

“You want me to hit your balls?”

Kageyama looked to the side, at a picture on the wall, then quickly back at Suga. “Yeah…”

Thinking fast, Suga said, “I haven’t done that before. Do you want to show me?”

Kageyama blushed, a striking color that spread out from his chest up his neck and out to his ears, and his hand slowly, slowly moved lower between his legs. With the pads of his fingers, he slapped his balls lightly, flinching away right before he did it.

Red was a very good color on him. Watching him squirm, Suga didn’t know whether he wanted to gather him up for a hug or fuck him all over again. Suga adjusted his position slightly and went for it, feeling like he was standing in the wings of the stage before a performance.

“Not too hard? Like this?” Suga imitated what Kageyama had just done, tapping his fingers against his balls with one hand.

Kageyama let out a groan. He mumbled something, and Suga took his hand away.

“What?” teased Suga.

“I said you can go harder. Hard.”

Using the palm-sides of his fingers, Suga slapped down on his balls, feeling them heavy and rolling beneath his hand.

“Yes—Yes, yes please, more,” said Kageyama. His body twitched around uncontrollably, his hips and torso flinching each time Suga smacked him. His balls moved up and down while he jerked himself, and Suga aimed with care.

Absolutely enthralled, Suga straddled one of his thighs to get a better angle. He adjusted the position of his hand, so it was mostly the heel of his palm hitting his balls, and the tips of his longest fingers brushed against Kageyama’s hole each time he went for the hit.

Kageyama was barely touching himself anymore, stimulated and close, soft noises coming out of his mouth at a constant pace. He pinched his foreskin and drew it over the head of his cock and then just clenched his fist over the head. Suga kept smacking the back of his hand on his balls, and Kageyama just squeezed his fist and then released, squeezed and released, and he repeated the subtle motion until he let out a very low and very long moan and slid his fist back over the foreskin and shot his load all over himself. His head went back and his eyes focused on Suga and then on nothing at all as he came.

Suga had taken his hand away as soon as the orgasm started. He felt aroused all over again, even if his cock was only half-hard from earlier.

Kageyama refocused, glancing down at himself as if bemused, and he shifted his eyes to Suga like he was going to say something, but he didn’t.

“You’re—you’re really something,” said Suga, as admiring as he could be.

Kageyama blushed, though his face held the same angles and planes as always, and asked for a tissue from the nightside table. Suga took one for himself as well, and Kageyama went to the bathroom.

While he was in there, Suga found himself feeling tired all of a sudden, body heavy. He halfway replayed Kageyama’s orgasm face in his mind, congratulating himself.

Kageyama came back and flipped the lights off. Suga was already half-into sleep.

“You’re staying, right?” said Kageyama, even as he wrapped his arms around him, drowsy.

Suga could smell his hair. “Yes.”

 

*

The first noise out of Kageyama in the morning was a long, indulgent groan, as he came down Suga’s throat, wresting his hands in grey hair.

Suga came out from under the blanket and swallowed.

Kageyama was breathing hard.

“Want to finish me?” Suga smiled brazenly.

Kageyama licked his lips. Suga got on his back, and Kageyama went between his legs and fit the whole length in his mouth like the truly talented guy he was. Suga moaned over how warm and wet his mouth felt, and he squeezed Kageyama's head between his thighs. It wasn’t long before he went over the edge, giving Kageyama a mouthful of cum. Suga looked at the line of his throat as he swallowed.

They took turns going to pee and had a brief discussion about food before returning to bed, still completely naked. Suga pulled the covers over himself and thought about initiating another round of sex. He equally considered taking a nap.

Kageyama was lying on his back with his hands behind his head on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. He was probably thinking about dance. The planes of his face looked just as harsh first thing in the morning as they did in the studio, but maybe that was something he couldn’t help.

“We didn’t decide on food, did we?” said Suga.

Kageyama turned onto his side towards Suga. “Hungry but… don’t wanna move.” His gaze shifted to Suga’s chest. “Kinda sore.”

“Did I fuck you too hard?” Suga was amused.

“I’m not sore in my ass, exactly,” said Kageyama defensively. He was slowly going red in the face, spreading out from his cheeks.

“Ah.” Suga could think of a lot of places where he might be sore.

Kageyama turned onto his back and closed his eyes. Suga wondered if he was going back to sleep.

“Sugawara?”

“Mmhm.”

“About the job.”

“Hm?” Suga wasn’t sure if he liked where this was leading.

Kageyama took in an obvious breath and spoke very slowly. “Maybe I could go somewhere else—”

“Don’t you dare,” said Suga, flopping onto his stomach and turning his face towards Kageyama. That wasn’t how they were going to do this thing between them.

Kageyama backed off on the topic, and his breathing immediately relaxed. He began walking his long fingers up and down Suga’s spine, over the thoracic, the lumbar, the cervical, then back down and out to the scapula, the blades of the shoulders, where humans would have wings if they’d been meant to have them.

Suga watched his face, remembering how Kageyama used to look onstage, young and fearless and uplifted.

Kageyama’s dimple was there on his cheek while he traced Suga’s bones, a small indent in his face, and Suga had a few wrinkles of his own.

Suga’s fingers itched for a pencil and notebook. He wanted to write about how Kageyama had made him feel, take down notes of the sequences of steps he’d like to see the company perform. He had visions of how to physically show the inspiration another person could make you feel, or how the heady power of holding another person’s control in your hands could translate into movement.

But maybe he’d let Kageyama choreograph that story. He wanted to see how he’d do it. Or they could collaborate for a joint piece.

Words weren’t always enough, so dancers did it with their bodies.

 

*

 

The rest of the performances went off stunningly, a whirlwind of adrenaline involving last-minute costume fixes, a tech mishap with a follow-spot, countless standing ovations after Kageyama’s closing piece, and Yamaguchi throwing red roses at Tsukishima after every Saturday evening show. On the last night, Tsukishima wore one in his teeth to the final curtain call, probably his idea of a joke.

At the final after-show reception, Suga wore one in his hair, a white rose he’d chosen from the post-show gift of an overflowing, pristine bouquet. He smiled when the company members told him how nice it looked, but he refused to say who had given it to him.

Across the room, people were trying to schmooze with Kageyama and compliment him; a few tried to flirt. Kageyama had no idea about any of it, and instead he kept trapping people in long-winded conversations about the meanings of every dance from the concert. Suga felt amused; over the last few weeks, he’d had a good number of those conversations with Kageyama himself, but then, he _was_ a choreographer.

“Suga? I want to talk to you.” Tsukishima wandered up with a napkin full of brownies. He offered one to Suga, but he declined.

Suga remembered Tsukishima when he first came into the company. A heaping more brash and daring, with an attitude that might match Kageyama’s. The brashness, it had stayed with him onstage over the years, though offstage he was quite different, and in bed even moreso.

“The board’s going to ask me what I think,” said Tsukishima.

That was right. The decision was unavoidably near, and Suga had no more control over the outcome than he had months ago, when Kageyama had first come to the company.

It hurt, but Suga knew the script. “You should tell them the truth.”

Tsukishima thrust his chin out and tilted his head, a little of the old cockiness coming out. “Don’t I always?” Thinking better of himself, he said, “I don’t know what I think. I don’t know what to say.”

In the corner, Suga could see Kageyama eating dessert with one hand, holding a drink in the other, and trying not to spill while he gesticulated. His listeners had blank, polite faces and were nodding too much. Suga felt a smile pulling at his mouth.

“Tsukishima, if you want my blessing to say he’d be better, I’ll give it to you,” said Suga. It was hard, being nice. But Tsukishima was younger than either Kageyama or him, and he was trying. “I won’t know about it either way.”

“I wouldn’t say that kind of thing,” said Tsukishima, in his typical honesty. “Well, whatever happens, I like working with you.”

Tsukishima wandered away to satisfy his massive sweet tooth, and Sugawara shook his head and went to rescue Kageyama from himself, readjusting the rose in his hair as he walked over.

 

*

 

Shimizu broke the news to him first, in her office about a week after the wrap. She always did things the most courteous way possible.

“As the Board of Directors, the decision was conflicted,” she said carefully, pushing her glasses up.

Suga couldn’t think of anything he wanted to say. A thank you seemed too far of a stretch.

“You’ve been hardworking, loyal and creative,” said Shimizu. Suga knew she wasn’t the type to memorize and recite, which meant her words came from the heart. “You have given great work to our company throughout your years here, and we wish you only the best.”

Suga wondered if he was too old to tear up at something like this.

Shimizu leaned back in her chair, giving him space. “I am personally sad to see you go, as well.”

The light caught her glasses and sent rays of late sun flying onto the walls.

“Shimizu—” said Suga. He swallowed and tried to find his voice. “Don’t tell him what you just said. About being conflicted. He deserves to have the best start possible.” He knew the warning was unnecessary, but he had to say something positive, and he wouldn’t be able to talk about himself without revealing too much.

“Of course.”

Suga was oddly calm on the surface. The bottom of his stomach hurt. He thought of who was waiting outside the room, and how he’d feel about it.

He found the way to say thank you before he left, and Shimizu nodded graciously.

“Congratulations, Mister Director,” Suga whispered to Kageyama, who was sitting on the ground, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together tightly.

Kageyama tried to stop his whole face from lighting up like fireworks as he stood to enter the office, but he didn’t do a very good job.

 

*

 

_Six Months Later_

 

“Got any advice before I go in?” Suga clutched his portfolio in one hand and the handle of the car door in the other.

Kageyama shook his head. “I’m bad at interviews. I don’t even remember what they ask me afterwards.”

“I have to say that doesn’t come as a big surprise.”

Kageyama looked at him with that dimple at the side of his face, that one he got when Suga was a little sarcastic or a touch too plain with his words.

“Your choreography stands for itself,” said Kageyama eventually. “You are highly recommended by everyone you’ve ever worked with, and most people like you.”

“Right.” They kissed fast, and Suga steeled his nerves and walked into the building.

He returned about thirty minutes later, with an uncertain expression. Kageyama was listening to music in the car, somewhere else in his imagination, but he stopped bobbing his head and looked up expectantly when Suga got in.

Kageyama crooked his neck to the side. “Well?”

“It’s just an interview,” said Suga.

Kageyama shook his head.

“Well,” mimicked Suga, buckling his seatbelt.

“What? What is it?”

“Let me drag it out here, c’mon. Suspense and everything.”

Kageyama pouted, and Suga was weak.

“They didn’t really say ‘anything,’” and Suga made air-quotation marks with his fingers, “But they said my prospects were good, and they had to check with the donors.”

“You’re amazing,” said Kageyama, and he spluttered. “I mean that’s—that’s great.”

A driver waiting for their parking space honked at them to get moving, and Kageyama expelled a curse and threw the car into reverse, one hand stretched lazily over the back of Suga’s seat as he turned the car with precision.

Suga took a deep breath, still recovering from interview nerves, and dumped his portfolio in the backseat.

“Kageyama. Promise me something?”

Kageyama said _Yes_ , but it sounded more like he was saying _Anything_.

Suga thought about the whole situation and grinned. “When there’s someone gunning for your job in a few years, list me as a reference.”

Kageyama had two dimples, one in each cheek, when he smiled really wide.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://kaiosea.tumblr.com/post/114652043970/learning-to-bend-kagesuga)  
>  Comments appreciated!


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